Ana shook the cobwebs from her brain. "Already?"
"You dozed for a few miles." He shut off the engine and the headlights.
Total darkness surrounded them.
Images flashed through her mind. Icy tendrils of fear raced across her skin as memories of Ty leading her through the jungle chilled her. She shivered.
"It's cooler out here next to the water."
"It's so dark." She undid her seat belt and fought the urge to panic.
"I parked around back." He exited, walking around to open her door.
She took his warm, extended hand, relieved when he switched on a flashlight and flooded the ground in front of them.
"Is that better?"
"Much." The simple act of holding hands while they walked around to the front sent heat racing through her bloodstream.
Ty swung the light across the building, giving her a sense of what to expect. The place might not be too bad. This was an A-frame house. If she were lucky, there would be two beds inside.
Ty ran his hand under the metal mailbox and produced a set of keys. "Let's get you inside."
Ana felt the immediate loss of warmth when Ty released her hand to unlock the door. He reached in and hit a switch that shed light on their temporary home.
"It's not much, but we'll be safe." Ty motioned for her to go inside. "I'll bring in the sacks. You look around."
Standing in the front room, she turned in a circle. Hope for separate bedrooms faded at the sight of stairs leading up to a small, open loft. A double bed, a small chair, and a dresser with no mirror filled the small space. Clinging to hope, she peeked behind two doors and found a closet and a bathroom.
Bare-bones best described the downstairs space. A cooking stove, refrigerator, table with two chairs sat against one wall next to a sink and countertop. A brown cloth couch faced a small television sitting on top of a small table.
Ty brought a couple of plastic bags inside and went back for the rest. When he returned, she was separating the clothes into his and hers piles on the couch.
"We'll keep the essentials out." He dropped a sack of food on the counter and joined her. "The rest goes into the duffle bags."
Ana's face heated at the sight of her new underwear spread out for him to see. She stuffed it into the bag, feeling a little foolish for being embarrassed.
"I'm hungry." He moved to the counter where he'd set the food.
The corners of his mouth lifted. At least he hadn't mentioned her unmentionables. The temperature in the room jumped ten degrees, and the ceiling fan chain was way out of her reach. Ana crawled onto the couch, stood up, and tried to grab the chain.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She lost her balance, wobbled, and placed her hand on the back of the couch to steady herself.
"You could've asked me to help."
Ty's hands gripped her waist. Ana turned in his grasp and looked down at him. Time stopped. The world quit turning. His scent, his heat, his body, everything about him was too close. Too close for her to ignore the desire. Too close for her not to kiss.
She angled her head, leaned down, and covered his lips with hers. He moaned a low guttural sound, opened his mouth and devoured hers. Again and again, their tongues mated, almost frantic, warring for more, driving her need to the point of begging. She wanted his hands and lips to caress every inch of her body. Wanted him inside her.
Ana slid her hand to the back of his head and held him against her. He moved from her lips to her jaw. Tilting her head, she gave him better access. Nipping his way down to her neck, his hand slid under her shirt and cupped her breast.
"Ty," she gasped his name.
His hand stilled and then dropped to his side. Breathing hard, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. The electricity between them vanished.
Nothing had ever been this simple to understand. His actions spoke loudly in the quiet room. He'd felt the scar on her chest and found it repulsive. Of course, he wouldn't want her.
Embarrassed beyond measure, she gathered her shredded pride and sat down hard. "I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry."
She stood. Quickly turning her back to him, she gathered her clothes, folding each piece in order to keep her trembling hands busy.
"Ana." His voice sounded labored but firm. "We have to talk."
She held her hand up, giving the traditional traffic cop signal to stop. Surprisingly, he shut up.
"Enough. That never happened."
Ana grabbed her toiletries and a change of clothes. Seeking the privacy of the bathroom, she locked the door, stripped, and got in the shower before the water turned warm. She placed her hand over the scar between her breasts and let her tears mingle with the spray.
How long had it been since she'd been able to block the ugly mass of flesh from her mind? She usually froze when a man's hand strayed too close to her breastbone. Not many had seen her naked. One had pretended her scar didn't exist, another couldn't look at it. In Ty's arms, with his lips pressed to hers, she'd forgotten for a moment. It was just as well he'd rejected her.
Always a realist, she accepted she couldn't change what had happened. She'd dealt with loss, heartbreak, and shame before. No doubt, she'd survive making a fool of herself. She'd move on without trying to justify her actions. The job at hand was more important than her vanity.
She'd taken jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt to the bathroom instead of the sleep shirt she'd picked up at the store. Their current situation warranted sleeping fully clothed.
Full of determination, she held her head high and opened the door, hoping to find the room empty. Damn, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a run of good luck. Obviously, it wouldn't start tonight, because there he sat with his hooded gaze trained on her.
Ignoring his presence, she climbed the stairs, crawled between the cool sheets, and faced the wall. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
****
Manny stood on the balcony and looked out over his perfectly manicured lawn. He gripped the railing tightly. Many years had passed since anger had dominated his every thought, yet he couldn't shake the fire eating away his insides. Even here at his home, his sanctuary, where he came for peace, deception and discontent had infiltrated every waking moment.
Few people knew the location of his home and family. He'd built this palace, no fortress, where his heir could grow up safely. Today not even the sight of Enrique, his seventeen-year-old son, walking the perimeter with one of the guards lessened the fire burning in his stomach.
Just as Manny's father had turned the business over to him, someday the Ortega cartel and all its holdings would belong to the boy. He already had the mentality of a leader. Nada, absolutely nothing, would prevent him from inheriting the Ortega empire.
A soft knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts. Interruptions were becoming too frequent, pushing his tolerance to its limit.
"Come," he barked out the command. His longtime housekeeper and confidant stepped through the door. "What is it?"
"Jefe, forgive the intrusion. Carlo Medina insists on speaking with you."
"I'll talk to him."
"Line one." She nodded once before backing out of the room.
"Thank you, Anita." He spoke kindly to her because she'd earned his trust years ago. She ran the house and guards, tolerating nothing. The boy had been nine when Anita had taken on the additional responsibility of helping raise his son.
Had it been that long ago since his whore of a wife had taken a lover? How quickly time had passed. Manny had personally cut both their throats. He remembered that night fondly.
It reminded him of another time long ago. He'd killed many since then. Creating his empire meant proving he was stronger than anyone else. No one survived his wrath. Except Ana Vega Cisneros. She was his only failure.
Manny unhurriedly moved to his desk and lifted the receiver. "Carlo, tell me you've accomplished your task, and you're coming home."
"I'm sorr
y, jefe." Carlo spoke softly as if he knew he stood on shaky ground. "The man and woman have disappeared. All our US contacts are looking for them."
"You called me to tell me this? What is your plan?" All of Manny's people were aware of his policy. If you brought him a problem, you'd better have a solution.
"Their plight has reached the news networks. Now there's a swarm of people looking for her. I may need more resources."
"I'll see what I can do."
Manny hung up before he had to listen to more excuses. He drummed his fingers on the desk's polished mahogany surface. His nerves needed a shot of tequila, but he'd promised to join Enrique outside. One quick call and he'd do just that.
The cartel had quite a few contacts in the US as many of the drug kingpins relied on him to supply their goods. But he dared not ask for a favor from drug pushers. What he needed was a specialist. He dialed the number and waited.
"Give me five minutes, and I'll call you back," the specialist said. His tone was laced with sweetness to mask the fact this was a business call.
"Five minutes." Manny disconnected and returned to the balcony. Enrique spotted him and waved, motioning him to hurry. "Soon," he called out loudly.
He regretted having the specialist kill Carlo, but flying him home so Manny could kill him wasn't practical.
Nor was he going to America to hunt Ana. He'd decided her second family was as expendable as her first. Discovering their location would be easy. Soon, Ana would return to Colombia, and he'd finish what he'd started so many years ago.
Chapter Thirteen
Ty sat in the dark and listened to the rustle of the sheets every time Ana tossed and turned. No wonder she couldn't get comfortable. She'd gone to bed wearing her clothes.
Whether she wanted to or not, they had to talk about the kiss. Ty wasn't beyond forcing the issue if necessary. At least with her in the other room for a few minutes, he'd had the chance to get his libido under control. How stupid would he have looked trying to explain, while sporting a raging hard-on, that having sex was a bad idea?
She was under his protection and yet he'd been right on the edge of stepping across that invisible line. Hell, he'd wanted to run across it. Nothing would've pleased him more than to undress her, spread her out like a smorgasbord, and taste every beautiful bare inch of her body.
Then what? Tonight she might have thought it was a good idea. The light of day had a way of making people face reality. Tomorrow she might regret her bold actions. He couldn't let that happen. A lot of work still lay ahead of them.
Normally, returning to Colombia would be out of the question, but Ortega had forced this showdown. The responsibility to keep her alive rested on Ty's shoulders. Emotional ties on either of their parts could result in bad decision making, and that was exactly how he intended to explain it to her.
"Ana, you don't have to talk to me, but I want you to listen. Will you do that for me?"
Her response was a soft snore. He had his doubts that she'd dozed off so easily, but she refused to respond, so he kept his carefully laid-out speech to himself.
Maybe some fresh air would help him clear his head. He pushed off the couch, stopping when his hand gripped the doorknob. He blew out a long breath. She might not get the full lecture, but he had to say something. "For what it's worth, pulling away from you was the hardest thing I've ever done." He quietly closed the door behind him.
The wind had picked up enough to blow the cloud cover off the stars. Even in the moonless night, they lit his way to the water's edge. Staring out across the lake, his eyes quickly adjusted to the semidarkness. He walked down the bank and out to the end of the dock.
A board creaked, and Ty spun that direction to see Ana running toward him. Her gait seemed to be more of a stumble. He rushed to meet her. Something was very wrong.
"What is it?" He gripped her shoulders to steady her.
"My mom and dad are missing." She shoved hair off her face and handed Ty the cell. "Marcus called."
Ty could imagine how Marcus had delivered the news. He didn't talk much, but when he did, he was short and to the point. He should've kept his mouth shut.
"What else did he say?"
"For you to call him." Ana trembled in the cool night air.
"I don't get it." Ty's adrenaline spiked. "Weren't they relocated?"
"Yes. That they were found shows you how easily information is bought in my country."
"Tell me about them." He tucked her under his arm and led her back to the cabin. He'd asked her more to keep her mind busy than out of curiosity, but to his surprise, he wanted to know more about her past.
"The night I was brought to the hospital, this wonderful nurse took care of me. I was frightened out of my mind and could barely speak, much less talk in full sentences. She was holding my hand when they wheeled me in surgery to sew me up and was still hanging on when I woke up. I had no one, so when I was well enough to dismiss, Lina and Pablo Cisneros adopted me. They and Lina's brother are my family now." Ana drew in a ragged breath. "I was a butchered thirteen-year-old with a horrible attitude, yet they loved me as if I had been born to them."
"I'm sure they did." Ty kept his voice calm and steady even as his blood approached boiling temperature. She'd been dealt some tough blows. Yet she had kept getting up. A little warrior.
Ty kept her moving. The word "butchered" bothered him. He couldn't ask how. She'd tell him if or when she was ready.
Marcus should've kept his news to himself and left a request for a return call. Then Ty would've had a few minutes to figure out how to soften the blow. He opened the door while mentally kicking himself for not having the phone with him when the call had come through.
Ana was smart enough to know her folks were in serious trouble, maybe even dead. Once inside, Ana dropped to the couch as if her legs wouldn't support her.
"If they're alive, Ortega has them, and we know what he wants."
"I don't care what he wants." Ty was expecting her reaction and knew exactly where her mind went. "Don't even think it."
"I know Ortega wouldn't honor a trade." She pulled her knees under her chin. "But what if he thought I was stupid enough to believe him?"
Ty didn't care for the expression in her eyes. She'd gone from beat-down to fired-up-and-ready-to-fight in seconds. He couldn't let her go off on a tangent.
"You can stop right there. I see the wheels in your head spinning. Trying to trick Ortega into thinking you'll walk up to him and surrender is not a workable plan."
"Why not? We'd have to make it look real."
The set of her jaw sent the hair on the back of Ty's neck vibrating. "Why not? Are you crazy? There's a good possibility I might not get there in time to haul your ass to safety."
Fire jumped from her cinnamon-flecked eyes. "Then let me remove that responsibility from your shoulders. Get me to Bogota, walk away, and forget we ever met."
For the second time tonight, she stormed up the stairs, slid between the sheets, and turned her back. For the second time tonight, he quietly eased the door open and went outside. Probably not for the last time tonight, he regretted not making love to her.
Marcus answered on the first ring.
"You could've waited and told me about her folks missing." Ty made sure his displeasure came through.
"Why? She asked if I had news. I did."
"You ass. I could've broken it to her gently."
"What difference does it make who told her?"
Ty opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut. Marcus was right. It shouldn't matter. "It doesn't, except you're not here with a crazy woman who now thinks she's going to offer herself as a trade."
"So straighten her out." Marcus always went to the bottom line first.
"Yeah. Sure. Tell me the rest. Who told you? Are they positive? And have you got money and a plane ride for us?"
"Nate got a call from his FBI contact. They found blood at the house, and no one can locate Pablo or Lina. Your plane leaves tomorrow."
> Even in short, choppy sentences, that was a lot of words for Marcus to string together. He'd begun to open up and talk more. Ty hoped the changes were a sign of healing.
"No shit? I knew you'd come through. That was fast."
"Not only me. A lot of people worked to pull this together."
"What does that mean? Who is 'a lot of people'?"
"I'll tell you about it on the ride over."
"You're coming?" Ty wondered if Marcus caught the sigh of relief that slipped out. Having dependable backup would make keeping Ana safe easier.
"Damn straight. And Jack Fury is, too, if he can wrap up the case he's working."
"I know him. He reluctantly saved my life."
"I can see how that might happen."
Jokes from Marcus were rare, and the wisecrack brought a smile to Ty's face. As did most conversations with Marcus, the rest of the call went fast.
Tonight could be his last chance at some shut-eye for a while, so Ty went inside and did his best to stretch out on a couch that was two feet too short.
As he stared at the ceiling, his mind wandered to Marcus, the funny, talkative friend from college. Jake Donovan and Marcus had always been able to get a party started regardless of the location. Since his wife's death, Marcus had withdrawn. Most of the time, he stayed to himself, coming out of the shadows only when he was needed. Working for Lost and Found, Inc. was forcing him into the world of the living. Maybe helping others was helping him heal.
Ty could only imagine suffering a loss of that magnitude. Losing his sister had devastated him. Losing a wife might kill him.
****
"You ready?" Ty opened the door and stepped out of the car.
Ana simply nodded and wordlessly shouldered on the small backpack he'd bought her as she followed him toward an airplane hangar. Her heart and breakfast seemed to be jammed in the back of her throat as realization hit her. Could it be? Were they going to help her keep her promise?
She had a whole list of unanswered questions, but Ty wasn't talkative. His personality had shifted back to the pissed-off American who had a job to do. He'd been silent and withdrawn all morning except when issuing directives.
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